


Guest Right

by crookedneighbour



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Discipline, M/M, Spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 16:20:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11406069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crookedneighbour/pseuds/crookedneighbour
Summary: Roose Bolton catches and admonished a younger Robb Stark.





	Guest Right

Eddard had brought along both Theon Greyjoy and his bastard alongside his legitimate heir. It was almost as if he were collecting spares. Robb had been behaved for a boy of his age, but the young prince had been testing the boundaries of Roose’s hospitality (and Eddard’s patience). Eddard and Roose had left the boys in the kennels. They were fascinated with the dogs in the way young men were fascinated with any beast. When Roose and Eddard returned the three of them had eluded Ben Bones, the kennel master spouting some excuse about Jon and one of the dogs snapping at him. If his eyes were so lacking, it might do to remove one, but certainly not while  _Lord Eddard Stark_  was still present.

Roose had suggested they split up to cover more ground, and Eddard had agreed. In truth he wanted to find the boys alone. He knew what they were after.  Old wives and bards whispered of grizzly trophies secreted away in the Drewadfort’s halls. It was just the type of thing a nosy young Stark would set his heart on.

The boys had little luck in finding such a thing. Instead Roose found Maester Uthor collecting leeches from the floor, and the young Stark heir bright red in the face as Theon smiled coyly.

Jon and Robb froze as Roose looked them over. Theon kept smirking, just as likely out of fear as amusement. 

“Maester Uthor, return Eddard’s bastard and Prince Theon to Lord Stark. He’s searching the ramparts. I would have words with his Lordling.”

Theon jabbed Robb with his elbow as they left, while Jon gave his half brother a wistful apologetic look. The young Stark stared sheepishly at his own feet.

Roose waited till the door was shut behind them. Robb shuffled uncomfortably. He had the auburn Southern hair of his mother, and Tully the flush to his flustered face. Roose could tell he would grow to be handsome in time.

“My leeches are quite dear to me. You know better than to let a bastard and a hostage make trouble for you,” Roose chided.

“Theon isn’t a hostage. He’s my father’s ward,” Robb replied. He looked up to meet Roose. Typical Stark stubbornness. 

Roose began to circle the boy slowly. 

“When Balon Greyjoy rebels, your father will take his head. He is a hostage. It’s best you learn that now,” Roose continued. Robb frowned, turning to follow Roose.

“Your father was worried. As his bannerman, I’m to ensure you’re better behaved.”

Roose put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. It was only partially a lie. The boy would believe though. He was young and trusting, even if the Drewadfort’s high ceilings and strange torches gave him pause. The boy would bend.

“How?” Robb asked. The boy sensed something was askance, but couldn’t place it. They were alone after all.

“You need discipline,” Roose teased. He made a show of dusting off Robb’s shoulders.

Robb looked as if he wanted to squirm. The shame would keep the boy silent. Edward had in truth searched the Godswood, but even so their time was limited.

“Pants off. Down to your small clothes. I won’t go gentle on you for being Eddard’s son,” Roose instructed. 

Robb nervously obeyed. He had yet grown independent enough to question him. He could still be shaped. 

“Hands on Maester Uthor’s desk there.”

This was little more than a light chastisement, but it was a start of something longer. Roose was weary of Eddard’s decrees and perhaps he would be pleasantly surprised and outlive his dear Lord Stark.

Robb looked over his shoulder uneasily. Roose could have shrugged. Instead he simply stared the boy down, looking over his scrawny legs. 

To the boy’s credit, he didn’t yelp at the first blow. His eyes grew red with embarrassment, but he did not cry either. The little Stark took each of his swats with a grim silence, that would have made Eddard proud. This proved slightly annoying.

After the first few blows Roose paused, letting suspense build. He placed a tentative soft touch on the underside of Robb’s bottom. He was yet to warm there.

“Does your father discipline you like this often?” Roose asked.

“Often enough,” Robb answered vaguely.

Roose gave the boy a sharper blow. They were just short of a quarter of the way there. Ten for each of the boys accomplices.

Robb chewed his lip between blows, not daring to turn to face Roose. His thighs quivered briefly with the harder strikes, and his anxiety was clearly having a toll on him.

“Will you tell Theon and Jon what you did to me?” Robb asked softly.

Roose smiled briefly to himself.

“If you tell your father, he will tell them,” Roose warned. Robb nodded obediently. Robb let out a wounded puff of breath with the strikes. His thighs and bottom had started to feel hot.

“Three more little lord.”

It would be unwise to have at his bare skin. Perhaps when the boy was older, they would revisit this scene. He would no doubt ripen with age.

Robb took his remaining blows with a sad look more like his half-brother’s demeanor than his own. Roose watched the boy redress himself.

Eddard smiled with relief on the boy’s return. Roose watched with satisfaction for the lilt in his step.


End file.
